The Dunker

Today’s prompt at The Daily Post is the word relish.

**

My Aunt Franny (of blessed memory) was the matriarch mascot favorite of our family on my mom’s side. Her house was headquarters. Family reunions, holiday & birthday parties, pretty much anything that happened, happened at her house.

She and my uncle lived in a suburb of Chicago in a cute ranch-style house. It had a basement, which was perfect for parties. It was also a great place for us kids to be sent when we became rambunctious. There was an old record player down there with a collection of old 45s, and volumes of old, musty books & comic books.  But the best part about Aunt Franny’s house was the huge backyard and its enormous weeping willow tree.

My uncle complained that it ruined the lawn, which it did, but as kids we didn’t care. It was the best tree in the world, in the best yard in the world, and Aunt Franny was the best aunt in the world.

In fact, when my aunt & uncle sold their house, it seemed like the end of an era.   Especially when the new owners did away with the weeping willow tree. My cousins & I no longer had tangible proof that our childhoods happened the way we remembered. Or wanted to remember them.

But I digress.

The point of this jaunt down memory lane is that Aunt Franny was a dunker.

Donuts,  pastries, toast, sandwiches, you name it. If it could be held in the hand, it would be dunked in coffee.

What’s the big deal, right? Lots of people dunk.

Some more so than others.

One day, a bunch of us were sitting around her old, yellow Formica kitchen table eating lunch.  Everyone was talking and laughing as per usual. We were a loud family.

Anyway, in the midst of all this Aunt Franny commenced to dunk a liverwurst sandwich dressed with the works —meaning mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato and sweet pickle relish— in her coffee.

She took a bite.

The table became quiet. Eerily quiet. Then someone said, probably my mom, “My God, Fran!”

Aunt Franny replied through a mouthful of soggy sandwich, “What?”

Then the adults started laughing.

It was a little gross, though. The sandwich pretty much fell apart in her coffee cup.

I can still visualize bits of relish and liverwurst floating…

I guess you had to be there.

 

TheAbjectMuse/SusanWritesPrecise
montrealgazette.com

4 Comments Add yours

  1. A dunker and a lover of liverwurst; very exotic!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes. It doesn’t get much more exotic than that. Oy!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Amazing!!! You totally took me into this scene and I imagined it happening in my own grandparents house. They have passed on many many years ago, but memories are still there. Thank you for this detail-oriented story.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. So glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for stopping by & I really appreciate your comment. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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